


Shifting

by jadziadrgnrdr



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:50:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadziadrgnrdr/pseuds/jadziadrgnrdr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry shimmies toward him and Zayn puts his hand up, not for any reason, just to connect them and keep Harry from doing something clumsy that will land them in a tangle on the floor.  </p><p>But.</p><p>Zayn's hand isn't his own anymore. The neat, French manicured digits that land on Harry's chest startle a tiny gasp from him. Makes Harry look down then look up at Zayn with a sideways smile, always ready with a dirty comment on the tip of his tongue for every occasion. He doesn't speak now and Zayn wishes he would. Take some of the air out of this … thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifting

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to drabble about:
> 
>  
> 
> [This Post Here](http://mindizmyspear.tumblr.com/post/55964614497/he-even-has-his-nails-done)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to Jasmine for the beta.

They were just fooling around, playing. The song is still so new, not well worn like their others so when playback starts they're all inclined to dance with genuine and unpracticed enthusiasm. Harry dances up to Zayn, he's not in costume yet so it's just Harry looking and being as silly as he ever is. Harry shimmies toward him and Zayn puts his hand up, not for any reason, just to connect them and keep Harry from doing something clumsy that will land them in a tangle on the floor. 

But.

Zayn's hand isn't his own anymore. The neat, French manicured digits that land on Harry's chest startle a tiny gasp from him. Makes Harry look down then look up at Zayn with a sideways smile, always ready with a dirty comment on the tip of his tongue for every occasion. He doesn't speak now and Zayn wishes he would. Take some of the air out of this … thing. They're still playing. This is just like any of their games. It's not a big deal. 

They continue to dance. Zayn is not really laughing anymore, nor is he looking anywhere else but this alien hand that he has control over. He moves it over a bit where Harry's bird tattoos peek out from under his shirt and let's the nails lightly glide against Harry's clavicle. Zayn very deliberately doesn't look up to see Harry's face. _What is he doing?_ Zayn lets the hand trail downward toward Harry's belly which makes him automatically flex. Zayn is charmed by that. He knows the impulse to gather all your bits of abs into a pleasing wall of muscle when you're being touched. Harry is bigger than him though, more impressive. No wonder he'd wanted to adorn this new body he was forming each day, even before it became a 'friendly' mandate from the label. Zayn idly wonders what these fingertips would look like lightly resting directly on Harry's butterfly. 

_Whoah._

Zayn goes to move his hand away but Harry lays his larger hand on top. Zayn looks up then, heart racing. _What the fuck is going on right now?_ They're doing a shuffle-y two-step now. The music isn't playing anymore and they're waiting for Louis to be done with his prosthetics so everyone is a bit scattered. Harry’s wearing the smile he gets just before he leans into Zayn’s space on stage and points out a particular shagable girl (or mom) in the audience. Harry’s lips are just off the curl of Zayn’s ear and he starts to sweat a little under his wig. Whatever Harry was going to say dies on his lips because Ben comes over then.

“You guys look brilliant! I was thinking, I know the script calls for Zayn to be checking himself out but I think it would be even better if Harry does it, really kind of romances her.” Ben is smiling from ear to ear. Zayn looks at Harry and he’s smiling, happy and eager.

“Sure, sounds good to me.” He says it with the mix of both genuine and mock enthusiasm that only Harry has ever been able to muster as far as Zayn can tell. Harry laughs giving himself over to it. Zayn can almost hear the run of his thoughts, sure it plays up the Lothario thing but it’s in a fun way and a slightly subversive way since he’s turning his charms onto a man in a dress.

"Yeah sure, sounds like a laugh." Zayn answers neutrally.

Harry and Zayn have always had an edge to their interactions. They all climbed on each other and tried to shock each other with illicit touches but Zayn and Harry were always, _always_ willing to take it an extra step. 

On more than one occasion Louis would bellow at them about it.“My god, and people think Harry and I are screwing. Get a goddamn room you two!” Back when they could joke about such things without Louis’s jaw clicking.

Harry and Zayn were the only two whom had shared actual sexual experiences. Even when Liam was single and fancy free for five minutes before he started talking to this Sophia bird, the thought of he and Liam scoring some girls (or girl) and fucking them (her) together was a thought he could barely contemplate. He and Harry had done it half a dozen times.

The first time they get on their marks to do the scene, Zayn is nervous as hell and he thinks it will be stiff. They run through it and Ben is complimenting him on how well he’s playing Veronica’s “nervous intrigue.” Harry is having a ball, all wiggling hips and waggling eyebrows. Ben loves that too. Zayn is scared he’s being too telling and Harry is letting everything hang out. Typical.

When they finish shooting it, the place expectedly erupts into catcalls. Louis and Niall, who are off to the side in their full costumes, are clapping and yelling in character. 

“What epic chemistry, these two!” Louis bellows.

“Just amazing, I love them! Romance is in dee air!” Nialll crows.

It’s just a bit of fun. Doesn’t explain why Zayn’s palms are sweating as he turns the knob on one of the smaller dressing rooms that had become a bit of an equipment graveyard. He wipes his hands down his black pencil skirt, steps out of his heels and walks over to the vanity. His makeup still looks good, but he knows someone will be along before his next scene to touch him up regardless. On the vanity is a discarded latex nose, a little misshapen and lumpy, perfect to roll around in his hands while he leans against the vanity enjoying the relative quiet a very thin door can provide. 

Unbidden he thinks about girls with their soft curves in lacy things. If he could be arsed he’d go on a hunt for his phone and thumb through a few of the DMs and texts of pics that girls send him, maybe go out and share a few choice pictures with the lads; Niall is always an appreciative audience for that kind of stuff. Ever since it got out that he messages girls back who send him pictures he’s never disappointed when he opens up his twitter app.

He likes pretty faces best. A lot of girls think a pic of disembodied tits are the way to go and he’s not adverse to it but he’d take a gorgeous smile with nice cleavage over a frame full of boobs or spread legs almost every time. The pics he gets are miles away from Harry’s hard sculpted torso that he doesn’t care anything about. Speaking of Harry, he and his shirt that’s secured onto his body with a single button and wish amble into the dressing room, eyes transfixed on his own phone. He manages to close the door with his free hand and leans up against it to continue the important business of texting whomever has him so enthralled. 

Zayn really doesn’t understand why Harry does this. He’s the only one who will actively seek him out when he’s “doing that thing that cats do,” as Louis has always referred to it. 

_“If Zayn isn’t ‘round you can rest assured he’s curled up somewhere safe like a tabby and just as hard to find.”_ Zayn smiles despite himself. He likes noticing the little quirks of their relationships. 

When Harry does these little checkups, he almost never seems concerned about interacting with Zayn beyond a soft "you alright?" or brief bit of petting. Sometimes as the minutes stretch on in companionable silence, Harry might lean over to show Zayn something funny sent to him on his own twitter or messages. Most importantly, if Zayn is on a phone call that seems too personal, Harry always makes himself scarce as quickly as he had appeared. This is why Zayn never chases him away. 

He’s inclined to today, however, and he doesn’t know why. He stills the impulse and fishes for his phone out of the pile of coats and personal effects sitting on a chair in the corner. He doesn’t go on twitter though, he notices he has some messages he hasn’t responded to. Some are from back home, some are business emails. He scrolls through them responding as necessary. He goes to sit down on the couch but his skirt is too constrictive for sitting in lotus position so he arranges himself so that his weight is on the side of his bum, leaning against the arm of the couch and letting his legs lay sideways down the couch’s length.

“Wow,” Zayn looks up just in time to see Harry clearly finishing up taking a picture of him.

“What?”

“You look proper hot like…” and he hurries over like he does when there is a baby or kitten video he just _needs_ Zayn to see. “Look mate, you look so _wicked_.” Harry is speaking in that slow awed voice that makes him sound like he’s stoned. Zayn sniffs and then looks at the proffered phone screen. It’s a tiny bit blurry so there is almost a hazy effect. It is a nice picture Zayn has to admit. With his head tilted down over his own phone and the raven hair of his wig cascading down his shoulder he kind of reminds himself of old pics of his mother. It’s off putting and cool at the same time.

“I’m saving this forever, mate. This is so cool.” Harry smiles big and goofily at him. "You look so much like Waliya in this, dude." Something about that comment unsettles Zayn, perhaps it's the way Harry can't take his wide eyes off said picture for more than a moment.

"Oi! That's my little sister!" Zayn says while punching Harry in the shoulder in a decidedly indelicate fashion.

"I don't mean anything by it!" Harry says innocently then his face changes "And anyway you lot are always saying stuff about my mum and my sister!" He can't quite bring himself to give Zayn the shoulder punch he deserves with him dressed like this so he just makes an ugly face at him.

"That's different! They're women. My sister is a girl dammit!" Zayn says indignantly.

"I wasn't being dirty, Zayn." Harry finally concedes. "You just look really bloody pretty is all I was trying to say." Harry says. Zayn just grumbles in acquiescence. After a few silent beats of them diving back into their separate phone business, Harry on the floor in front of Zayn's couch, Zayn reaches over and flits his manicured hand through Harry's curls a bit. That's when Harry knows he's been fully forgiven.

“Hey,” he says turning around to take Zayn’s hand, gently coaxing him up.

“What, Harry?” 

“I wanna do something. Come here.” 

“What Haz?” Zayn sounds more irritated than he actually is. It doesn’t deter Harry in the slightest. Soon Zayn is in the mirror before Harry, noticeably shorter than him without any shoes.They’re taking selfies in the mirror. Exaggerated kissy faces bleed into a series of terrified gaped mouth expressions which then shift into over-the-top flirty shots. Harry comments that Zayn ‘smizes’ so well so Zayn squints his eyes sexily and licks his lips. Something in Harry’s face changes, it’s subtle but Zayn sees it. Zayn does it again but this time he fashions his lips into a soft kiss and puts fire in his eyes. Harry gives back as good as he gets, leaning down to place his slightly parted and wet lips next to Zayn’s tilted jaw and wrapping his arms around Zayn’s middle. Harry pauses to admire a particularly hot picture where Zayn is leaning back a bit on his shoulder and Harry has seized the tip of Zayn’s earlobe with his teeth. 

“Oi! You two, stop acting so weird with each other and get your asses out here. Ben’s looking for you!” Niall shouts from the door. “Zayn, you gotta do your green screen and Harry, you need to change your wardrobe to play the nerd guy.” Niall doesn’t wait for Harry and Zayn to even disengage from one another before he’s leaving and closing the door behind him. Harry and Zayn take a few moments to look back over their pictures. Zayn asks Harry to send a few. 

At the door, Harry bends down before Zayn and helps him with his shoes. Zayn steps into them while steadying himself on Harry’s hunched shoulder. There is a moment just as Harry stands that their mouths are centimeters apart. Something in Zayn riots briefly telling him to _“go for it!”_ but dissipates before he can even properly formulate a freak out. Besides, Harry is already opening the door so he just does what he’s supposed to and follows him out to set.


End file.
